


Mituna/(Female)Reader

by Sinderlin



Series: Reader Fucks The World [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinderlin/pseuds/Sinderlin





	Mituna/(Female)Reader

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feralarmageddons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feralarmageddons/gifts).



The first time you run into him, you literally run into him. His skateboard knocks your shin on its inevitable path into the bushes as his head smacks firmly into yours. You cuss and clap your hands over your face protectively, bouncing on your uninjured leg while your poor shin throbs. The pain quickly fades, though, and you chance a look at your unfortunate obstacle. He apparently toppled right over after he hit you, and now he's lying on the ground and drooling a little. You sort of wonder if he got a concussion. His limbs suddenly jerk, and he scrambles back up to jam a finger right in your face.

"WH4T D0 Y0U TH1NK Y0U'R3 D0NG?!" he yells, twitching and looking around for his impish skateboard. You ignore the error and ask him what HE was doing. "1 W45 1N TH3 M3D4L 0F 5M3 51CK M0V35." He sees the red blooming in your forehead and the bridge of your nose and snaps his arms to his sides and bows his head sheepishly. "UH, UM... 50RRY." He genuinely seems sorry, maybe for yelling at you or maybe for hitting you, but he's sorry so you just sort of awkwardly...pat him and attempt to sidle around him without further injury, but his obscured stare freezes you.

"D1D Y0U 533 WH3R3 MY B04RD W3NT?" he asks after an uncomfortably long moment of silence. You nod slowly and back toward the bushes you think it maybe went into. You still aren't used to these trolls, and a surprise landing is hardly a way to start a conversation. You almost slip on the board during your introspection and hop around it to prevent further mishaps. You expect to hear him laughing like an asshole, but he's just smiling vacantly in your general direction at the moment. He lights up like a christmas tree when you pull the board out of the underbrush, though, and he comes bounding over to grab it out of your hands. He happily tucks it under his arm and resumes staring at you in a semi-vacant expectant way. You take what you assume to be the bait and ask who he is.

"M1TUN4 FUCK1GN CAPTOR," he replies excitedly, jamming a thumb at his chest briefly,"5U4V3 4S FUKC L4DYM315TR3 3XTR3M3, H0W Y0U D0IN'?" He snort-giggles to himself and pulls his board over his chest. You wait for his giggling to die down and introduce yourself, at which he proclaims "W0W L4M3, BUT D0N'T W0RRY, M3 4ND TUL4 W1LL M4K3 Y0U B1TCH1N' R4D!" Your confusions obviously shows, so he ammends his proclamation with,"MY M4T35PR1T" and a wide, easy grin. He's kind of adorable in an easy to take advantage of way, or just in the helpless kitten way, or some weird amalgamation of all sorts of gross weird cute things. His teeth force his lip up awkwardly and he twitches and shifts often while he babbles incoherently.

You must be staring just as vacantly as he was before given how he's snapping his fingers in front of your face and yelling "H3LL0? H3LL0?!" at you. You swat at his hand and frown. He deflates and bows his head, going surprisingly still. He wraps his arms around his skateboard and mutters a quick "50RRY". You're surprised he didn't just walk off already. You sigh and say it's no problem, which makes him brighten right back up. He's sort of thin, but it looks like his growth got a little stunted somewhere along the line and left him just a few inches away from his intended height. The youthful round of his face isn't bad, though, it's cute. "WHY D0 Y0U KEEP Z0N1NG 0UT? 4M 1 JUST T00 DEV45T45I5NGLY H4ND50M3 T0 K33P Y0UR 3Y35 0FF 0FF?" he sniggers and poses, skateboard pressed tight to his hip. You roll your eyes and are about to rebuke the comment when you hear the far-off calling of a rich, femenine voice. Mituna hops in place a little and points out the rush of teal and red to you as it flies by, then grinds to a sudden stop.

"'tun4, b4b3! th3r3 you 4r3! 1'v3 b33n look1ng 4ll ov3r for you," the woman revealed from the colorful blur exclaims,"You didn't show up at the square." Even if she does seem worried, she's smiling nonetheless. Mituna smirks devilishly and jerks his thumb at you. "n3w fr13nd? So r4d." She gives you a short nod and an appraising look.

"50 N0T. 1 R4N R1GHT 0V3R TH3M 3H3H3H3H3H3," he giggles, "1 G0T 4LL TH3 L4DD135 F4LL1NG F0R M3." 'Tula' seems more amused than anything and grins at you briefly. Mituna frowns and adds,"1 F3LL D0WN T00 TH0UGH..."

"4w m4n, you ok4y? th4t's wh4t you'v3 got th4t b1tch1n' h3lm3t for!" the teal-clothed troll proclaims, grinning even more widely when Mituna nods and knocks on his helmet. "h3y, sorry, th1s sort of th1ng h4ppens. No b1g, r1ght?" She purses her lips at you questioningly, her grin returning when you tell her it's fine. Your shin still kind of hurts, but hey, no pain no gain, even when the phrase isn't really applicable. Mituna suddenly wraps an arm around her waist and scoots close.

"TH15 15 MY B0D4C10U5 B4B3 TUL4," he informs you matter-of-factly. She laughs and reintroduces herself as Latula Pyrope, resident queen of cool. "2HHHHH1111111T1T, W3 W3R3 G0NN4 SK4T3 T0G3TH3R!" He jolts and tosses his skateboard down, jamming a foot down on it awkwardly. She steadies him and then takes off on her own board, waving you a quick farewell as they both roll off.

\--

The moon is low in the sky, deep purple-red streaking through the clouds overhead. You're wandering again, strolling through other people's lives and deaths and afterlives, watching memories drifting in and out of focus. The small neighborhood feels comforting even though it's mostly empty. The hives sport yellow, brown, orange and green, all squat or thin but never truly big; tiny, affordable houses for the low castes. In front of one of the trees in far lawnring you see long, gently curved horns and a black-purple smudge with a huddled ball of yellow pressed against it. As you near the two, you can make out the relaxed curves of their bodies in the shade. They both have messy masses of black hair and white orbits where yellow and black should be, but their soft smiles show they don't mind it. 

Mituna raises his head and waves lazily, lips peeling into a wide, easy smile that dimples his cheeks. "H3Y. W3'R3 JU5T H4NG1N', W4NN4 J01N?" He seems calm and doesn't jumble his words, short as they are. You take a seat on his free side and lean back to watch the clouds. "50RRY F0R RUNN1NG 0V3R Y0U. 1'M 4 FUCK1NG CLUTZ." He snickers and stretches, neck cracking quietly when he twists his head just so. You can see scars around his eyes this close up, pinched and pocked like burns. The tall, muscled man on his other side eyes you appraisingly. The man nods silently, thick stitches pulled tight over his lips. "KURL0Z 15 MY M01R41L. W3 F1N15H3D 0UR J4M 4 WH1L3 4G0." Mituna leans comfortably against Kurloz's side to watch the clouds with you.

You can feel that he's still jumpy and nervous under his skin, muscles twitchy and stiff, even as he rolls on the grass in a half-asleep haze. Kurloz is watching with a silent joy, hands clasped in his lap. It feels like you three are the only ones in the universe here, lying under the sinking moons and laughing about the things that have become everyday in this endless land of dreams. You've come to know the residents of the dreambubbles better over the, what, months(?) that you've been here, and you've found yourself gravitating towards the yellowblood you ran headlong into the first week. He's ever changing and always the same, never dull but with little to say. He's loud and energetic and foul-mouthed, quiet and still and apologetic. Hot and cold, fast and slow.

"1 TH1NK 1M G3TT1NG B3TT3R," he comments offhandedly while he shifts around to lean on you and lay his legs over Kurloz's lap. You don't know if he meant the skateboarding or his injury, and you know better than to ask. You play with his hair and trace the scars fanning out from his eyes. Kurloz signs something and smiles, thick thread pressing dents into his lips. Mituna laughs and stretches. "4WW Y34H, 1 G3T 4LL TH3 H0TT13 B0D135." Kurloz rapidly signs with his hands and relaxes again. You snort and finger-comb his hair, working out snarled sections in his fluffy mane. You ask where Latula is, since you figured they must spend a lot of time together being matesprits and all, but he rolls away from you on your lap to admire the clouds again. You don't push it, and Kurloz seems thankful for that, nodding solemnly.

You go back to watching fat clouds roll by in the purple sky with Mituna settled between you. Kurloz signs and points at a few of them, and Mituna comments on his choices with a smirk. The air starts to warm as the true dawn begins, and you all huddle in the shade of the tree through the sunrise until the memory ends and resets.

\--

Finally, you find out why Latula hasn't been around. Mituna grabs you by the wrist and drags you after him to his Prospit tower, just as he remembered it. He stops abruptly in the doorway to his room and kisses you, teeth in the way and helmet pushing against your forehead uncomfortably. You don't know how you should react; even if he is cute, didn't he say Latula was his matesprit? He pulls away and tries to figure out what to do with his hands while he blushes and avoids making eye contact. You ask him what the heck that was about after an uncomfortably long silence.

"1 L1K3 Y0U," he states. You ask him about Latula. "W3 BR0K3 UP. 5H3 4ND 1 JU5T 533M3D M0R3 L1K3 FR13ND5 4NYW4Y." You gape at him for a moment and ask if this is a rebound or a whim or what. "N0! 1 M34N, 1..." he pauses, shoulders slumping,"TH3 R34SON 1S 1 F33L M0R3 L1K3 1 D1D B3F0R3 4R0UND Y0U. N0T...BR0K3N." He looks like he's grasping for his words, breaking to make sure he doesn't mess up. Thinking back to how he seemed when you first met him, he really does seem different. You'd tried to help him out a few times, mostly with his speech, and sat by while he skated, but you don't see how that could make you any better than the girl you'd seen skate off with him a couple months earlier.

You ask him why he dumped her. She seemed fine. She treated him like a normal person as far as you could tell. He sighs and sits on the bed in the center of the room. "1 D0N'T..." he growls a little and tenses, mentally fighting to keep everything ironed out smooth, "Y0U'R3 PR3TTY 4ND N1C3 4ND C00L 4ND...1T'5 L1K3 W1TH KURL0Z. 1 F33L M0R3 L1K3 M3." He sighs again, hands curled into fists on his thighs. "1T'5 N0T 4B0UT H3R, 3V3N 1F W3 PR0B4BLY 4R3 JU5T FR13ND5 4NYW4Y." You remind him you can still be there with him and for him without trying to take her place. He nods and frowns. "TH4T'5 N0T WH4T 1 W4NT."

You sit down next to him and rub his back. You ask him what he does want, and he scowls and groans, flopping back onto the bed. You tell him you can't tell if he really wants to date you or what. He peers up at you from under his helmet and wrinkles his nose. "0FF C0UR53 1 W4NN4 D4T3 Y0U, DUMP455!" He looks even more frustrated by the fact the words have started to come out wrong again than by the fact that you keep asking him dumb questions, and he sputters in irritation while random insults pour out of his mouth unbidden. Before his spiral of frustration and inward-directed anger can completely overtake him, you lean down and press a kiss to his lips. His teeth poke your lip and his helmet's still clonking against your forehead, but it's so worth it that you hardly care.

"15 TH4T 4 Y35?" he asks when you sit back. You nod and yelp when he tugs you back down to lay sloppy kisses all over your mouth. He's a heavy weight on top of you as he happily buries his face in the crook of your neck and knocks your head on his helmet multiple times. You shove him off and inform him that his helmet is going to give you a concussion. He looks torn between his beloved helmet and wanting cuddles and eventually tugs it off and sets it on the floor next to the bed. You flop onto his chest and lay a few choice kisses of your own in retaliation, leaving a particularly gentle one high on his cheek where the scars twist harshly. "5T0P 1T! TH4T T1CKL3S!" He giggle-snorts and writhes under you, nearly bucking you off when you reach down to purposely tickle his sides.

Oh. Well, that's interesting in an entirely different way. You felt a sort of lump when he was writhing around, but now that you're both still and attentive, you can definitely tell what it is pressed against your stomach through the fabric. He looks nervous and yellow-tinged, muttering "50RRY" before attempting to slither out from under you. You almost wave it off, no big, but on a whim you kiss him again and tell him it's okay. He looks confused but relieved, hands snaking up to feel out your waist and back almost curiously. He sweet and cute and hot, yellow-cheeked and uncertain. He wants you, you want him; it's a foregone conclusion. You grind down against him and moan against his neck.

"1-15 TH15 0K4Y?" he asks, fingers twining behind your back. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you nod fervently, leaning in to crush your lips together again. He moans into your mouth when you roll your hips just right and you inform him that the clothes have to go. He looks panicked for a moment and mutters, "1'M N0T G00D W1TH TH3 UNDR3551NG TH1NG." You ask where the zipper is if there is one and he points to the back of his neck. You reach under him and tug it halfway down his back with ease that apparently makes him jealous. He shoves your shirt up over your chest and grins at you. You lift yourself off him for a moment to shove his suit down to his knees and let him kick it the rest of the way off. It looks like he doesn't wear underwear. It also appears that he has two very excited bulges writhing on his groin, eager for some action. He moves to get up and change positions, but you push him back down with a smile and take your top all the way off. Your pants come off with a good deal more struggling, but they come off nonetheless. He thumbs the band of your underwear with a broad smile, face yellow up to his ears.

His expression gets even better when the underwear comes off, so bright-eyed you think you see a spark of life in his white irises. You plop down in his lap and brush his bangs out of his face. His bulges wriggle up into you, hot and slick, and rapture clouds his eyes. You lean in and kiss him while he moans and bucks up between your legs. His eyebrows pinch together and he chews his lip between kisses, hands falling to brace against the sheets. You almost fall off when he starts to get really enthusiastic, and you tell him to stop and let you try. He looks shocked and entirely pleased by this notion and forces his hip jittery-still to the mattress and waits. The smooth roll of your hips pulls long moans from his lips, deliciously shaky and full of lustful joy. You press your palms to his chest and lift your hips higher, rocking against his lap, panting hard.

"1'M, 0H, 1'M G0NN4," he gasps, twisting fabric between his fingers as his eyelids twitch. It sort of figures, but his lack of stamina is sort of endearing. His eyelids flutter and his head tilts back, chest heaving. You bounce against his hips, heat flooding you and running down your thighs. He's half silence half choked off moans, back arching off the bed, still coming while you ride him to your own climax. By the time you come down from your high, he's twitching, grinning, arm thrown over his face. You pull yourself off him nervously and flop down next to him. You're sort of worried you may have broken him, but he reassures you with a breathy shout of "FUCKJ1NG 4W350M3!"

The two of you lie near-breathless on the bed, warm, wet sheets clinging to your skin. His face his still yellow, though his bulges are retreating contentedly. He wraps slowly around you like a constrictor with a happy hum. Even if the bed is gross now, it's still too nice to move. He's warm and comfortable to lie against, too, so you let him squeeze you until the wet spot starts to get cold. The two of you wiggle over to the dry side of the bed and resume a less one-sided and less constrictive cuddling.

He's pretty perfect, all in all, but you're more than happy to help him on the road to recovery.


End file.
